This is the Nation
by Golden Panther
Summary: This covers the history of Tamriel with Elsweyr, Cryodill, and Skyrim being the main focus. AU/Canon mix. Inspired by true events and the "Skyrim RP" role-play forum. AU: The beginning is NOT in canon. Canon evolves as civilizations do (this is especially true when it comes to the religion/pantheon: kind of like Greece and Rome).
1. Prologue

_**Winter's Fire**_

* * *

**Author's Note:** This piece is inspired by true events, peoples and cultures that once existed, Bethesda's _Elder Scrolls_ series, and the storylines, plotlines, characters, and events of the 'Skyrim RP'.

* * *

**-BOOK ONE: THE SEA OF DRAGONS-**

_Prologue_

If you go westward no matter where you are you will eventually hit a sea. This is a geological fact. The same is true if you go eastward, however there is a difference between going eastward and westward. For if you go westward across this sea, you will encounter a mystical land. At first sight, you will see a sandy beach, a vast expanse of rolling hills, a dense forest that is flanked by mountains to the right and grasslands to the left. If you travel southward you will see the glorious gleaming city of Claudius. The city of men.

Claudius is a city that was built with innocent blood, and to this very day the souls that inhabit this dark city cry out to the gods for deliverance. But the gods do not answer, for they have been dead for centuries. The streets of Claudius are polluted. Rats and feces scatter the ground, yesterday's garbage piles up next to the produce stall in the market. Flies feed off plague ridden flesh and discarded meat. In the main street, near the square, there is a center of filth and vile so despicable that even the Daren, with their undead armies and retched smell of death would not dare enter. If you were expecting a whorehouse, then you would be mistaken, if you were expecting a castle, you would only be partly correct. If you were expecting a dragon occupying said castle, then you would have won any prize you wish.

Simon Claudius III, a dastardly miser of sin, gold, and imperialism lived in this place. He was the leader of the guard, the voice of the people, the Emperor of the Empire, known as Tiofiassau. His face was devilish, looking like the spawn of a malignant faun who courted a young woman who didn't know any better. His only purpose, as he told his people often, was to cleanse this land of all sentient non-human creatures, to make this land, this Empire, a place of men and only men. Simon's plan was all in his head at the moment. In his mind the perfect world would have no Centauri, no Argonians and no certainly Djoder, for those civilizations will just kill themselves anyway. All Simon needs to do is sit back and watch the show. The Daren will be left alone, for the undead pose no threat. The Aros, the great birds of the sky will be sold into slavery and tortured for helping the opposition. The only other civilization left that Simon hadn't dealt with in his head was the Khajiit.

The enemy.

The ones that started all this war, all this pain, and the ones that let Simon through the front gates and into the Emperor's chair...


	2. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE:**

**THE CAPTAIN, THE CHIEF, AND JAFO**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This is Elder Scrolls. However, this pre-dates any canon so names for divinities and races such as Akatosh, Khajiit, and Nords will not be used. They will appear as time progresses and civilizations advance.

* * *

**Pronunciations:**

Adonis (A-do-nis)

Afon (Ah-faun)

Aka (A-k-ha)

Argonian

Armis (Ar-miss)

Astoph (As-top)

Bizal (Bee-z-all)

Cosmarki (Cos-mar-key)

Dak'raka (Dock-rock-ka)

Darma (Dar-ma)

Dasha (Da-sha)

Djoder (Joe-der)

Farnos (Far-no-os)

Gungi (Gun-gee)

Hakhar (Ha-car)

Haru (Ha-roo)

Jafo (Ja-foe)

Jakhar (Ja-car)

Jakhari (Ja-car-ree)

Kama (Ka-ma)

Karae (Ka-ray)

Kaz (K-as)

Lynthicus (Lyn-thigh-cus)

Macal (Ma-call)

Patu (Pa-t-oo)

Sako (Sa-co)

Saphar (Sa-par)

Sazzo (Sa-zo)

Stymphalid (Stim-pa-laid)

Tulus (Too-lo-os)

Vol Jak (Vol Jack)

Zaffo (Za-foe)

Zof (Z-off)

Zufa (Zoo-fa)

* * *

The waves beat up against the rocks on the beach, engulfing them in salt and receding back into the tide. The sky, which was clear and pristine, gave the midday sun a bright canvas, for which to spread out its rays and cast warmth into the world. The hills and the grass rolled gently in the southbound wind, which told stories of the old tribe that used to live in the ancient stone fortress that now lays barren.

Standing on his horse, Arrow, a chief looked out onto the water, seeing a race of pale, furless creatures in fine linen clothes exit a few boats. The chief noticed that they were all males, no women, or children for that matter, and this confused him. Strange, the chief thought, usually when one comes they bring their entire family with them. Perhaps they are on the way or got lost somewhere.

One of the men who was unloading fishing supplies from a boat, looked over and saw the chief and his horse.

"Hey!" The man said looking towards his company. "Look over there." He pointed towards the lone tribesman.

"It's just a savage Finch."

"But Captain," Finch said, "it looks like he wants something."

"If he does," the Captain replied, "then he can ride over and tell us himself."

Almost on command, the chief and his horse sped down to shore. The Captain and Finch watched and noticed him, taking in every last detail. The horse was massive, much larger than the horses these men were used to. The veins on the animal were pulsing, and his eyes were covered with war paint and battle scars. The chief himself was also much larger than they. A strong build meant for war, the chief took it upon himself to display his scars, which were numerous and ghastly, all of them on his chest and shoulders, both of which were bare. Fur covered his body, and his face remind The Captain and Finch of a feline. The chief's legs and feet were athletic, lean, as if every muscle was carved perfectly. The only clothing he wore was a loincloth, which covered the front only. His tail, which was made of fine fur and was rather long, draped over the side of his horse.

The chief stared these men down and laughed inwardly.

"Greetings," the chief said.

"You speak our language?" The Captain said, interrupting the chief, who looked at him with great disdain.

"In my tribe," the chief replied sternly as he walked his horse parallel to the man, "interruptions cost you a tooth."

The Captain nodded, judging by the chief's eyes which were unmoving, he knew that he wasn't joking.

"So," Finch said rather politely, "what do you call yourself?"

"Dak'raka, Chief of the Dasha, Lord of Zufa. You are on sacred grounds, leave if you wants good for you." The chief replied, rearing his horse a little. Arrow stomped the ground, he was not too keen of these invaders either for they smelled of rotten fish and dysentery.

Dak'raka looked around, seeing these people, noticing how rough skinned they all were, how on some there were long flowing mane like beards and others were clean shaven.

"We mean you know harm Dak'raka," Finch replied with a respectful bow.

Dak'raka nodded in return, accepting Finch's gesture as he grabbed the reins of his horse. "Just what do you plan to do here?" The chief asked.

"We plan to build a settlement." The Captain answered. Dak'raka looked towards him, letting tail started to sway back and forth, dissatisfied. Arrow huffed a bit.

"I see," Dak'raka said, noticing the Captain's men continuing to haul more gear and begin to set up some sort of camp. "Are you the chief?"

"Captain Truant Foss actually."

"Well, sorry to be presumptuous," the chief turned his horse back towards the hills, "You will be my guests tonight. Come, for Zia does not wait to set the sun." Foss and Finch as well as two others, Jordan Drake and Venice Romana followed Dak'raka up into the hills.

"The rest of you," Captain Foss said, looking back as he walked, "make camp." The men nodded and continued working.

Dak'raka led Captain Foss and his men through the weaving grass and up into the beginnings of his land.

"Where are we?" Foss asked.

"This Captain," Dak'raka answered, "is the Dalka Zufa, or the Zufa Forest in your tongue, the hunting ground of my people."

They passed over thick underbrush that became awoken by the disturbance of the newcomers. Walking through streams that conversed heavily with the trees that grew over her, the men noticed that the he birds flew through the trees, free and un-tethered by weight. Everything from the vermillion wild flowers to the massive towering trees that stretched into the far reaches of heaven made their presence known.

* * *

Eventually, a large temple that was composed of two massive gold pillars, and a large rectangular gold building that showcased the might and splendor of a once proud people stood next to a small stream. At least, that was the former impression. Now the building was a dismal shadow of itself, showing nothing of pride or nobility, only of failure and death. Nature had consumed the breath of this lively place, for vines crawled up against once occupied walls and trees grew through the roof which had long since collapsed. The only thing the stone was good for now was reminding those who go near it, to never seek what this building sought and to never displease anyone or anything. For regret often shapes fortune.

"This," Dak'raka said as he pulled his horse up to the ancient domicile, "used to be the Temple of Zof, built by an ancient tribe known as The Darma, or Dwarfs as you call them."

"Wait," Finch said, walking towards the stone, "I think I've read about this place."

He reached out and felt a large piece of it, feeling the moss and earth first before removing it revealing the stone to him.

"Yes, this is it Captain!" Finch exclaimed with excitement, "This is the entrance to Bizal, the City of Gold."

"The Temple was built for a city, that I do remember," Dak'raka replied. "If it was this Bizal or not, I do not know."

Dak'raka lead his horse next to Finch, who was busy chipping away at the stone gently. The chief placed his hand on Finch's shoulder sternly, like a father who was about to tell his son to stay clear of a busy street. The man looked up towards him and saw Dak'raka's eyes and noticed nothing but pain and grief.

"Pull away from the stone," Dak'raka said, forcing his horse to break Finch's bond with the structure. "This place is full of death."

He looked towards the stream that was near the structure. "This stream is the only stream that flows north and stops a mile from where we are now. All others flow south towards the sea and extend much further."

"Why is that?" Foss asked.

Dak'raka turned towards him, "War."

"Come on Finch," Venice said. Finch nodded and walked back to the party and they continued walking. Venice and Finch took the rear, while Dak'raka continued with the front.

"We can always come back later and look for that gold." Venice said, whispering low enough for no one else to hear. "He only told you that to scare us off."

"Yeah," Finch replied with a sigh, "but what if he's right."

"He's a savage Finch, and savages do not know anything about prospects or the value of anything." Venice said. "Now come, let us keep up to not sound too out of place."

* * *

They continued deep into the forest, passing over another river and another ruin, but this one was kinder, more gentler, and resembled a humble house. The walls were still there but the roof had succumbed to a large oak tree.

The sun was slowly beginning to set and the stars were beginning to show themselves. The crickets chirped, the wind softly blew the leaves of the trees, and the robin sang a love song. Dak'raka stopped his horse and held his hand up, signaling the men to stop.

"Why are we stopping?" Jordan, who hadn't said a word, asked.

"All of you must remove your shoes." Dak'raka said.

The men were reluctant, and a bit confused, for the ground was moist, covered with moss, and they didn't want their feet to get wet. "We are thirteen miles from Vol Jak, the tomb of my ancestors." Dak'raka continued, "We are officially standing on holy ground, and it is customary of all Dasha to be this way, to please Lord Zof, god of forests and nature, for it is he who made my people a home, so we honor him without question."

Foss and his men slowly did what was asked and place their shoes on a nearby rock.

"That reminds me," Foss said, "you told us we would be your guests, but you never actually said where we would be going."

"To Jakhari, the city of my fathers and their fathers and home to Jakhar." Dak'raka said with great emphasis as if they travelers were supposed to know who or what that was.

"Excuse me, but what exactly is Jakhar?" Foss asked.

Dak'raka smiled and didn't answer him directly, he just laughed and lead the group onward.

As Dak'raka and his guests entered, they were greeted with primitive shouts and hollers, as if their chief was returning from war and bringing home his spoils. The city was laid out among the tall trees, for houses stood in them, sixty, sometimes even seventy feet into the air. These houses were made of bark, leaves, wood, and sometimes even out of the trees themselves. Bridges connected each house to one another and the layout of houses moved in a spiral pattern towards the ground. On the ground was a massive clearing that spanned fifty yards in width and diameter. The centerpiece of the city featured a long fire-pit and a small shrine of a cat like figure made of ivory. Behind this was a field, and behind that was a longhouse. One the right and left sides, spanning from the longhouse to the city entrance, were a series of smaller huts. These consisted of shops: fishing markets, for a river and a lake was nearby, leather-smiths, a tailor, a florist shop, as well as a houses for guards and their families.

The hooting and hollering continued as Dak'raka moved through the center of the primitive city and ever so slowly the townspeople encircled them. The sounds of war became a chant of death and all that was in the way was a massive leader and his horse.

The shouting escalated even further to a deafening cry, and Dak'raka stood atop his steed, looking around at his people, who were dressed in the same fashion, taking the situation in. Some began to wield knives and daggers, others spears and clubs, but the popular weapon was the bow. Archers prepared themselves for a kill, other warriors readied themselves for a brawl. Dak'raka looked very calm and sure of himself as the situation of death began to light its quick fuse. Foss and his men began to draw their weapons, which were only better steel versions of what the natives had. The chief turned to the company that he had lead, leaned his head in and whispered.

"Sheath your weapons, you don't want to provoke them any further."

"Why are they doing this?" Finch asked, as he and the others started to circle around.

"It's tradition, they will not attack unless I do." Dak'raka said as he un-mounted his horse and walked over, letting his tail be taken over by gravity.

"Great." Venice said, turning towards Foss. "You lead us into a death trap."

Foss rolled his eyes at the thought, "You know for once I agree with you."

The chanting produced overtones that nature mocked: the tree began to rustle their leaves, the streams and rivers began to rise with anticipation. The call of war that these natives made was the call of nature, and it was speaking loudly. Dak'raka placed his hands on Foss' shoulders, the chief looked into his eyes and played the regal face well.

"You have invaded my land and threaten my people with your presence."

The natives moved closer.

"By right I should have your stomachs cut, let your innards trail off and let Zufa take you."

And closer.

"But, that was my father's way."

And even closer, striking distance.

"But I am not my father."

One of the natives, by the name of Kesh raised his club against Finch, who wielded a sword and he too was about to go into a frenzy that in theory, would have destroyed any hope or dignity in the place. Dak'raka looked up and saw Kesh and the rest of his tribe dangerously close. The chief did nothing but stand there with a stern, unmoving face and this made Foss somewhat nervous, for the last thing he wanted to do was end up dead and be feasted upon by, as far as he could see, vicious people who frankly did not give a damn.

"What are you going to do?" Foss asked, looking up at the chief as sweat rolled down his face.

"Something that I've never done." Dak'raka answered.

The chief took a breath and with a strong harsh voice shouted a single word: "Sako!"

The natives stood down and backed off.

"What did you just say?" Foss asked whispering.

"Peace." Dak'raka answered, he turned to his people and spoke, the symbol signaling his people to unarm themselves. They slowly did so.

"These people are my guests," Dak'raka said, "you are treat them with the utmost respect. Anyone who disobeys will be hanged by the trees and beaten. No exceptions. Is that understood?"

Every single one of them nodded. The chief, satisfied, began walking towards the longhouse.

"Come with me Captain Foss, your men can stay here and mingle."

Foss nodded, "Do as he says, mingle."

Finch, Jordan, and Venice shrugged their shoulders and looked at each other. "Alright."

* * *

Dak'raka entered the longhouse through a deer skin doorway with Foss following close behind. The inside of the longhouse reeked of sweat and cooked meat. A fire which was roaring in the center was roasting the carcass of a doe. Next to the fire, on the far side of the longhouse was a large bed that Foss assumed to be Dak'raka's, and beside that, an assortment of spears, javelins, bows, and arrows.

Sitting on a bed near the door was Patu, Dak'raka's wife, who was tending to Karae, Dak'raka's son. Patu was petite compared to her husband, and also unlike her husband, her breasts were exposed, draping over her thin, natural body, which was covered in fine white fur. Patu's eyes were a dark mystic blue. Karae, the son and heir to the chiefdom, was dressed like his father, looked like his father, and built like his father, but had the mother's eyes. Foss smiled at the two and proceeded towards Dak'raka who turned the doe over, letting it cook on the other side. The chief sat down on the ground, which was dirt, moist, and rather comfortable. Foss did the same.

"Your people will stay for the Festival of Jakhar as my honored guests. You will eat, you will sleep, and you will hunt with my warriors, and become zaffo, tribesmen."

Foss smiled, "Me and my men would be honored to attend your festival, Chief Dak'raka. But if I may ask one question?"

"You may." Dak'raka said.

"Why are you helping us?" Foss asked. "As you said, you have every incentive to have us roasted alive."

Dak'raka smiled, "You are sons of Astoph, god of the sea are you not?"

"We came with his guidance if that's what you mean." Foss replied.

"Fair enough," the chief said. He stretched his arms a bit and yawned for a moment. "Zof and Jakhar as well as my ancestors have always told me to treat outsiders with respect, honor, and dignity, even if their customs and beliefs are not their own, for that dear Captain, is on what makes a tribe larger than your kin. Brotherhood is on what forges the greatest tribe of all."

Foss nodded, "I couldn't agree with you more."

"Now I will ask you a question Captain," Dak'raka said. "You told me by the sea that you were building a settlement, are you looking for something else?"

Foss looked into the chief's eyes, and saw the yearning for an honest answer. "No," Foss replied, "what makes you say that?"

"Because the one that calls himself Finch was asking about Bizal, the city of the ancient tribe as if he were planning on going there." Dak'raka answered.

"Well, we have all heard stories of the dwarves having a golden city in the forests beyond the sea, and we have discussed searching for it, but if you're implying that's on what we came for-"

"That's exactly on what I'm implying Truant." Dak'raka said, interrupting Foss, and upon realizing that he broke tribal tradition reached into his mouth and pulled out a tooth, without flinching or shedding a tear. The tooth Dak'raka pulled was a sharp canine that was located in the back of the mouth. He had six more so the loss of one wasn't going to make a difference. He examined the bloody tooth for a moment and threw it into the fire.

"Like I told Mister Finch," Dak'raka continued, "there is nothing for you there, those who go looking for gold will die, slowly," he reached to the side for a spear and began sharpening it with a rock that he grabbed from the fire-pit. "and painfully."

He chipped away at the wood, making the point deathly sharp.

"Why is that?" Foss asked.

"A monster, a dragon by the name of Farnos resides in Lake Kama that lies beyond the north flowing stream." Dak'raka said. "There is the ruin of Bizal."

He paused a moment and turned towards the fire, becoming enchanted by it's beautiful waltz and roaring dance. Dak'raka took a breath and continued.

"It was a city of great power and wealth at the height of the Darma. The chief, known as Barnabas, was beloved by his people and the gods, and was destined for greatness. But one day, Gungi, the chief's son, murdered his father and immediately took over. After that the city became retched, vile, a place of whorehouses and drunken spite. Gold became scare as war ravaged the forests, killing off many of my kinsman as well as the Dwarven sons, who were like our brothers. They were good people, led by a crazed power controlling madman, who wanted nothing more than to control all the wealth, and all the power in the world. He drained his people dry, even sold them into slavery with other nations, such as Zan, the lizards to the south-"

"We call them Argonians." Foss said, cutting him and realizing that he broke tribal tradition pulled out a tooth toward the back and handed it to Dak'raka who was patiently holding his hand out for it and having a stern look on his face. The chief inspected the tooth just as he had done before and placed it into the fire.

"Now," Dak'raka said, "before I was interrupted, "He drained his people dry, and sold the Zan, or Argonians as you say, to slavery, and he simply tortured the Djoder, the tigers to the east, just so he could have more gold. Gungi was a tyrant, and his people cried out to the gods for justice: 'The king must be slaughtered!' But Adonis, the king of the gods, wouldn't listen. He would not command his brothers, Aka and Cosmarki, gods of the hunt and order to interfere. He forbade Kaz, the war god, to send his troops, and he even banished Lynthicus, the god of courage to live with Astoph for a while until things blew over. The one thing Adonis didn't want was a reason to kill his creation without reason, and he didn't want his family to provoke him. So for a while, the world was in dismay, and still the people of Zufa warred on and Bizal continued to grow into disrepair. One winter snow caused a famine, and the people starved, resorting to eating dead birds, flesh, and some even turned to cannibalism but still the gods would not interfere and the people began to believe that the gods had damned them forever, that is until Gungi did the one thing that caused Adonis to act."

"What did Gungi do?" Foss asked, figuring that this was a perfect time to ask a question that was usually saved for by intrigued children.

"He disobeyed Adonis' one and only law," Dak'raka said, "Gungi murdered one of his own people by his own hand. It was all over a piece of bread too. Gungi stabbed the poor soul right in the heart with stake. That act of violence, that act of murder, caused Adonis to call on his son, Tulus, to shake the earth and crack it into pieces, forcing the city of Bizal into the earth. Astoph then sent his wife, Afon, goddess of the stream and river, to create a lake, what is now Lake Kama, which means despair. The citizens drowned, Gungi was taken adrift by Afon's current and into the arms of Astoph, his body to be tortured by Carmen, or chaos, along with all the other creatures of the sea for all time. Over time Bizal was forgotten, the gold withered and was sent to Haru, the goddess of innocence and the poor to be used for her benevolent purposes. Then Doros, the dragon god, sent Farnos to guard the ruin and Lake Kama to prevent anyone from resonating Bizal's curse that was said to be cast by Saphar, for it is he who controls evil, deceit, and spite. It is most likely he who is responsible for you and your men's urges to go looking for gold that isn't there Captain Foss."

Foss laughed, "I do not have any urge whatsoever to look for Bizal."

"Didn't you just say that you talked about it on your voyage?" Dak'raka asked, giving the Captain a skeptical, untrusting look.

"Yes," Foss replied rather quickly, "but I show no interest in gaining rich here, just a chance to start over."

Dak'raka nodded and stood, motioning for him to stand also. Foss did so. "Dak'raka gives you that chance Captain Foss." The chief placed his hand over his heart as if saluting a military general and said, "Sakufa."

Foss repeated the motion and the word in the exact tone and manner. When he was finished he asked the chief, "What does that mean?"

Dak'raka answered him, "Brother. I had just made a bond with you Captain Foss, I trust you enough to make that decision, the question is, do you?"

Foss nodded, "You have given me an invitation into your home, and have offered my people a chance here, for that I am forever thankful and grateful."

"Glad to hear it." Dak'raka said. Foss began to exit the longhouse, "Captain, I noticed that you arrived with no women or children, why is that?"

"They will be arriving in a few months. Hopefully before the first snowfall." Foss replied.

Dak'raka nodded, "Dak'raka hopes this too. In the meantime, I will allow you to bed any of my tribeswomen that pleases you," he turned to Dak'raka, "including you my dear."

Patu looked over and smiled at Foss, who smiled back and waved at Karae.

"Thank you for your generous hospitality." Foss said and exited the longhouse, with Dak'raka following close behind.

Outside, Foss' men were conversing with the people. Finch was speaking to Kesh, who was teaching him basic tracking skills and Venice was speaking to Daku, a trader who was showing Venice the fresh fish and meat. Venice meanwhile was sampling everything he saw, for he was hungrier than a starving wolf. Foss walked over and smiled as Venice was about to take another bite of fish.

"Don't spoil your appetite, we are eating soon." Foss said.

"Eating?" Venice asked, somewhat confused.

"Yes Venice, eating, you know, the thing we do three times a day." Foss replied with a smile and a laugh as he met Dak'raka near the large fire-pit.

"I shall send Kesh with you to send for the rest of your men Captain Foss," Dak'raka said. "for they shall feast, drink, and bed in my blessing also."

Dak'raka looked over and shouted: "Kesh, sazzo!"

Kesh walked over to his master, bowing before him as if he were a deity to be feared, placing his face in the dirt. "What do you command?" Kesh asked.

"Take Captain Foss to the shore to retrieve his men, do not be slow about it."

Kesh nodded and stood.

Foss began to walk away, "I'll wait for you by the entrance Kesh." Foss said.

Kesh nodded and was about to follow when Dak'raka whispered in his ear.

"Make sure you stay clear of Jafo the Stymphalid, I don't want to lose another one of my tribesman to that beast."

"Will a hunting party be sent out?" Kesh asked.

Dak'raka nodded, "Not now, for now it is Jakhar's festival, we shall hunt for him together Kesh, just you and me, we both that scores to settle with that monster."

Kesh nodded again and walked towards his hut nearby and grabbed his weapons: a bow and quiver full of sixteen lethal hand-crafted arrows, a belt for his knife and dagger, and the knife and dagger themselves. Kesh put all of these on his person, met Foss and lead the Captain back through the forest towards the shore.

* * *

Moving like an agile beast of the wild whenever he was in the forest, Kesh would climb trees as if he were a baboon of the southern jungles, jump over tree roots and limbs like a deer, crawl upon the ground like a snake, and shriek like a banshee. These abilities of agility made Kesh the best hunter of the Dasha, making him the most respected member of the tribe next to the chief and his family. If Patu wouldn't have given birth two years ago, Kesh would've been declared Dak'raka's heir, but Kesh didn't mind waiting, for he knew that he would get his chance, and it would be years before Karae would be old enough to lead the tribe anyway and Kesh figured that he would be the best qualified to lead it to glory.

Foss followed as best he could, for Kesh was moving at alarming speeds and Foss could only run so fast.

"Kesh, do you mind slowing down!" Foss called, noticing that Kesh was nowhere to be seen and that the night was falling.

The crickets chirped, the streams spoke quietly to the trees, the wind blew softly, rustling leaves and cooling the earth. Foss shivered, remembering that he had taken off his shoes on a rock somewhere. Now the question was if he could find them.

"Kesh!" He called, turning around in circles. Movement in the trees. The leaves rustled and birds took to the air in fright of the disturbance.

"Kesh?"

More movement. An owl called to her mate. A fox scurried across the ground in a hurry, making Foss jump a little. The wind picked up, a wolf cried his hunting song and he began to rush through the forest, leading his pack up towards the rivers and through the hills that made up the land. Foss slowly made his way to a tree, deciding the best decision would be to stay in one place. As his hand moved towards the moss covered bark, the moonlight came out of the clouds, revealing to the Captain where he was. The ruins of the Temple of Zof.

"Kesh!" Foss called to the wind.

"Your tribesman is not here." A voice nearby said.

Foss turned and saw a blue haloed being that had the appearance of a dwarf. He dawned proudly a beard and wore gold and silver plated armor, which consisted of gold and silver gauntlets, matching chest plate and boots. This dwarf also wore chain mail. Upon his head was an ancient crown that resembled a dragon skull also made of gold, this covered most of his head. At his side was a sword, gleaming steel and forged from a dragon fire. It was a legendary weapon that died with Bizal.

"Are you King Gungi?" Foss asked.

"I am Captain Foss." The dwarf said.

"How do you know my name?" Foss asked.

"The trees speak of you and your men Captain, they saw that you have made peace with the Dasha, the cat people of the forest. Congratulations on making a death sentence." Gungi replied. He pulled out a gold piece from his pocket and flipped it toward him. "I know what it is you came for."

_"It's real?"_ Foss said to himself, as he caught the gold piece- his eyes unbelieving and heart slowly aching at the sight of it.

Gungi nodded with a smug, knowing smile on his face. "Yes, it is very real. The rumors and stories are very true Captain. The Dasha are greedy bastards, they're not telling you the whole story."

He laughed, "Now if you want to know the whole thing I'll be happy to tell you on the way."

The dwarf moved to the side, as if welcoming Foss into his company. He was about to enter and go with him until Kesh appeared on the top of the ruin like a puma, a beast ready to kill its prey. He slithered down like a cobra down the side and stood in between Foss and Gungi, standing at his full height, getting himself into a protective stance and hissed.

"Return to your grave twisted brother," Kesh said eyes peering down at the dwarf. "he has no business with you!"

"True," Gungi replied, "but I think he wants to make business with me." The dwarf looked past Kesh and towards Foss, who just stood there admiring his gold piece. "Isn't that right brother?" Kesh hissed again, grabbing Gungi by the throat and lifting him up into the moonlight, examining his eyes rather closely. They gleamed a slight blue, almost as if he were planning a sacrificial rite.

The hunter drew the dwarf closer to him, letting his fowl breath overtake the blue specter. "Who are you?" Kesh asked, hinting a devious smile.

Gungi smiled and answered, "The one that calls men to their true master. A mere servant of Lady Macal."

Kesh growled and barked, both of which were wolf like. "Tell your Mistress of Fear to fuck herself."

Gungi laughed with a nod. "I'll send a message Master Kesh."

"Leave my hunting grounds you miserable imp!" Kesh replied, squeezing Gungi's neck and lifting him higher and higher into the night.

"Alright!" The dwarf said, struggling under the weight of pressure. "But know that you shall one day die with the rest."

Kesh let the poor creature go and pushed him back into the darkness from which he came. The hunter eyed the lame king who continued to look on with his mystical blue eyes, but then Gungi blinked and descended into his realm.

* * *

Kesh led Captain Truant Foss through the grasslands, this time at a quick walking pace.

"What's the hurry Kesh?" Foss asked, sensing the hunter's urgency in his speed.

"We must get back to the festival Captain," Kesh said, "We don't want to miss the feast."

He moved through the grass, and behaved as if he were stalking a gazelle. His body low to the ground, his head up, and eyes on constant swivel. Suddenly, there was the breaking of a stick. Kesh stopped and raised his hand, signaling Foss to do the same. The hunter lowered his hand slowly. Foss nodded and got as low to the ground as he could.

"Is there something wrong?" Foss asked.

"We're being hunted Captain Foss." Kesh said, pulling out a knife, he turned towards him. "Stay here."

Foss nodded and watched as the primitive survivalist stalked the ground.

Slowly moving through the grass, Kesh listened for any movement. The rattling of a small grass snake. The wind pushed the grass to one side, letting Kesh become more exposed to whatever was out there. A quick murky shadow moved across the land from behind.

Kesh turned and scanned the landscape, seeing nothing but nature's beauty presenting itself.

"Foss?"

Silence. The sounds of a struggle- a beating, rumbled through the trees and howled through the wind as Kesh ran towards roaring screams. His heart raced as his speed quickened. The screams for deliverance grew into shrill cries of panic and fear. The hunter slid to a stop where he left Captain Foss.

Looking around at the disturbed earth, Kesh crouched down and picked up and handful of dirt, he smelled it, catching every scent that passed through it. He threw the dirt on the ground, and noticed drag marks. He sighed, "Jafo."

He positioned himself like a lion about to start the hunt, letting his tail sway back and forth in a focused, concentrated motion. Kesh lowered his head and breathed in and out slowly, forcing his heart rate to drop, he then closed his eyes.

The wind picked up, the grass mimicked the waves crashing against the shore. The moon was high into the night, the stars filled up the sky. Another scream, but this one was not a human scream, it was a scream of satisfaction, a cackle, a fearsome cackle that made Kesh's fur stand up straight. The hunter opened his eyes, which changed to a different color. The color of the hunt, of revenge, of yearning to kill the beast that plagued his dreams and make his heart shake with fear. His courage took over as he charged into the forest, giving a bloodcurdling battle cry of deliverance.

Moving as fast as he could, jumping clear into trees and slithering through the branches, following the beast's trail, Kesh pulled out his bow and readied it to fire. His heart began to race as his sensory neurons intensified, his nostrils flared and his brow became fixed in a downward, menacing position. The screams of fear returned, the fighting continued. The hunter pushed onward through the trees, jumping from tree to tree like a flying squirrel. When he landed, the hunter stopped and listened. The fighting was near, he was close. He scanned the ground and saw that he was once again near Bizal, and that Jafo the Stymphalid, the rather large man eating crane like bird with brass armored beak, feathers, and claws, had pinned Captain Foss up against a tree with the left claw thirty feet away from Kesh's position. Kesh noticed Foss, his clothes were tattered to ribbons, the face was bruised, and a large gash ran from the right corner of the mouth to the right temple plate. Just by his limited motion, Kesh knew that Foss was injured in the arm and that his left leg was broken, for the man was being fond of his right too much.

Jafo laughed and he spread out his wings and sneered.

"It has been a long while since I've feasted upon man flesh." He said, moving closer towards the Captain, "Far too long." He opened his mouth, showing his sharp, demon like beak which were deadly razors, specifically made for the ripping and tearing of meat.

Jafo laughed and backed off a moment, "I won't even bother giving you last rites, I'm far too famished to care about formalities."

He dared again, this time the bird snapped his jaws, displaying his sheer force, which echoed through the trees. Kesh pulled an arrow from his quiver. A bead of sweat rolled down his face as he stood from his hiding place. Thirty yards, a relatively easy shot but also a dangerous one. Foss' life would be decided by the course of Kesh's shaft and tip.

"Aka," Kesh whispered, "Lord of the Hunt, guide this arrow to pierce the heart of this feral devil. Hakhar, shield of the world, protect Captain Foss, in case I miss." Slowly Kesh released his grip, the vibrations of the string and the arrow disconnecting caused the drawstring to wiggle slightly from left to right. The arrow flew straight through the air, the tip gleaming in moonlight, carrying Kesh's vengeance.

The arrow pierced Jako in the side, finding a sweet spot in between two feathers, digging in the flesh, but the bird was not defeated. He screeched in pain and turned towards the direction of the arrow, seeing nothing. He turned back towards Foss and saw only the tree before him. Jako looked around, a bit confused and scared, for he could've sworn he had his prey locked in his grasp. "Where are you man flesh?" He asked.

The drawing of a drawstring, "I don't know about man flesh, but would Dasha suit you?"

Jako turned around and smiled. "Kesh, the brave warrior of the Dasha tribe." He laughed. "Come to seek the vengeance of your son?"

The hunter stepped forward, eyes flaring with fury. "You slaughtered my son, and killed my chief's father along with many of my brothers." Kesh replied, "Vengeance is an understatement."

"Oh," Jako said, "then what is the correct statement?"

"How about the removal of your head!" The hunter released his arrow, which flew into the bird's neck.

Jako screamed again and eyed the sky. He took off, flapping his wings, creating a small cloud of leaves, dirt, and dust. As he took to the air, Kesh fired another arrow, hitting the bird in the underbelly, sending the beast back to the ground, crushing tree branches and falling into the dirt. Kesh turned, put away his bow and wielded his knife. Jako was injured, impaled on a rock, but still living. The bird fought back with his claws, and produced swipe to the head. Kesh dodged. The bird then tried a low sweep of the ground with his claw which Kesh jumped over, taking the airborne opportunity to throw the knife into the attacking claw. The bird screamed again, clutching his injured appendage. Kesh opened the bird's claw and grabbed his knife, moving it upwards, making a deep and infectious cut. Jako winced, tears fell down his face, but the bird was far from finishing the fight.

"You will die without honor Jako." Kesh said.

The bird smiled and nodded, "As I deserve to."

As Kesh moved to decapitate this sorry thing, the Stymphalid moved his other claw around and grabbed Kesh by the tail, pulling him down to the ground. The hunter looked the bird in the eye, showing no sign of weakness, and all the courage he had.

"You really think you can kill me? The beast of the forest!" Jako said proudly, moving his head closer to Kesh. "I devoured your people, and I wouldn't mind to do it again, like I said," he laughed to himself, "I'm very hungry."

Kesh looked over, "Do what you will, but first, Armis, attack this feral beast for me."

Armis, a wolf in service to Kesh, heard the commotion and waited for his command from his master. As soon as Kesh's eye hit him, the wolf prepared his stomach for another meal.

The wolf charged at Jako's head. Armis' sharp canines went through the brass feathers and into the skull. The wolf pinned the bird, who was screaming for mercy and trying to fight back, but the rock kept him in his place. Jako flapped his wings and failed about like a dead fish as Armis mauled this fowl creature to death.

When it was finished and the beast was dead. Kesh stood, walked over to the bird's now split open head, and dipped his right hand in crimson blood. He then motioned for Armis to come to him. The wolf did so, and the hunter placed his bloody hand over the wolf's left eye, staining his fur. He then continued up on Armis' head, down his back, and the center of his tail, giving the wolf a red stripe. Kesh then dipped his hand back into the blood of the bird and marked himself, this time, placing his right hand over the heart. He then very carefully and accurately gave himself a stripe extending the mark of his fingers all the way to the shoulder and his side. The index finger he extended to his arm, covering his arm with a single stripe and extending it to each finger, giving a tribal skeletal appearance. When this was done, Armis howled and lay down on the ground, submitting himself to Kesh. The hunter petted the top of the wolf's head.

"Find Captain Foss. I will go for his men." Kesh said.

Armis stood and began tracking for the Captain while Kesh returned to the grasslands, introduced himself warmly, explained the situations, and lead the rest of Foss' company through the forest.


End file.
